


Sugar and Snails and Slugs and Spice

by jazzypizzaz



Category: Glee, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Homophobia, Magic, Playing fast and loose with Harry Potter timelines, Self-Acceptance, Sparkles, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-15 23:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzypizzaz/pseuds/jazzypizzaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wouldn’t connect the cause of this event for quite some time, but the truth of the matter was that while Wade was a Squib, Unique was a talented witch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sugar and Snails and Slugs and Spice

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a rambly drabble/headcanon piece then somehow morphed into a legit story.

The only son of Muggle-born wizards Mr. and Ms. Adams, Wade Adams was worrisomely non-magical.

 

An awkward and shy child, often lost in daydreams, he had several odd tendencies but did not seem remarkably wizard-like. With friendly head pats and exclamations of “how’s my best little man?” Mr. Adams did his best to bolster his son’s confidence, so as to spur magical exploration. These interactions often produced a frustrated furrow between Wade’s eyes, his shoulders would hunch down and his mouth would open as if he were about to contradict his father, but then Wade would soften and smile compliantly. Mr. Adams could only assumed he was helping his odd child. In addition, while his mother had to physically drag him through the department store section for little boys’ trousers and button-up shirts, he would happily spend hours helping his mother pick out her own dresses. Furthermore despite his apparent disinterest in shopping for his own clothes, Wade was still the only little boy Ms. Adams knew that deliberately kept his pants pristine and willingly wore dapper sweater vests. For another example, he followed the Jones’ older daughter everywhere like a puppy in the presence of divinity, eagerly sorting through her brightly colored beads of costume jewelry and dressing her baby dolls with a look of reverence, all the while ignoring the Lynn's nice but rowdy kid Ryder.

 

All in all, the Adamses did their best not to give into worrying over their son’s lack of magic: after all, the Jones’ daughter’s sparkling spirit and headstrong boldness made her a great role model for their shy boy; Wade’s cleanliness and polite manners impressed Ms. Adams; and Mr. Adams had seen enough of the Wizarding World to understand that eccentricity and a flair for flamboyance often went hand-in-hand with powerful wizardry.

They held out hope.

 

However, when the spring after he turned ten no acceptance letters came by owl and Wade still showed no sign of magic, his parents shrugged their shoulders and reluctantly decided to made plans to continue his enrollment that fall at the Muggle primary school. So he wouldn’t attend Beauxbatons like they had, so he wouldn’t grow up where the Adams parents held such fond memories discovering their own magical wonders, so Wade with his love of shiny grandeur wouldn’t be able to appreciate the Academy’s refinement as a student after all.

No matter, Ledbury Primary School was a fine Muggle institution.

While both parents were proud of their own magical discoveries, the rest of the Adams’ dear extended family were Muggles after all so electricity and airplanes and algebra were not foreign concepts. Wade would be fine, such a good-hearted sweet child, so if he became a civil engineer for a Muggle firm instead of Head Specialist in Architectural Charms at the Ministry of Magic like his father, that was all well and good. They tried as best they could to let him know he was loved no matter what-- he was as unique and special as any wizard boy.

 

Unfortunately, while they hid the decision about his schooling just in case of late owls, Wade still easily caught onto the disappointment in his parents’ frustrated whispers and how their reassurances didn’t compare with the pride Mercedes’ parents exuded towards her when she returned each summer with new tricks and talents. He worshipped Mercedes because of how she made her toy ponies sparkle when they played together and how she could transform her cottony puffs of kinky hair into long silky ropes and back again with not much more than a concentrated look of determination. He stewed with resentment until, after listening to Mercedes yet again tell him story after fantastical story about giant squids and professors who could morph into frogs and classes dedicated to learning how to shoot ribbons out of wands, a glorious new thought occurred to him, and he briefly gained new hope.

 

Of course, Beauxbatons Academy was a _school_ for magic! He could learn how to make his own shaved head burst with glossy curls and flowers bloom at his fingertips! He could become just like Mercedes! Next year was his chance! He wasted no time in enlisting his parents to help him prepare:

 

“Mummy, I want to start dressing like a royal princess, pretty please, with a long poofy pink dress just like Glinda’s--”

 

Ms. Adams hestitated, but stewing with guilt over her disappointment in her beautiful son decided to at last give into his clothing whims. “Well okay honey bear, I suppose did want to try a few new spells from Gruchella’s No-Sew Crafting Charms and lord knows I don’t need a new ball gown myself--”

 

“--because next school year I’m going to learn how to become a Good Witch, I won’t have to wear silly Muggle trousers, and I’ll float away in a bubble like Glinda to Beaxbatons, and I need a dress for the proper dramatic effect--”

 

“Oh baby, Wade, no you’re Mommy’s unique little boy, and you can wear any dress you like I promise, but you can’t go to Mercedes’ school until--”

 

That was not the response he wanted to hear. Wade’s eyes glinted with determined anger and a passion Ms. Adams had not seen before from her subdued son. She was about to continue in hastily settling this rare tantrum before it got out of hand when Wade’s carefully starched blue button-up shirt suddenly burst with ruffles and ribbons, sparkles erupted from his skin, and wild glittering curls sprang from his head like time-lapsed ivy tendrils growing towards the sun.

 

Startled by the way his bottled up resentment and the magic he knew existed had burst from him all at once, Wade paused, shifting from foot to foot and tugging on his ruined ruffled shirt nervously, waiting for his mother’s stern reaction.

 

But her dumbstruck face was now streaming with tears before it slowly broke out into a huge smile, and she enveloped him into a bone-crushing hug, trying to communicate her guilt for not believing in him more.

 

“You are my special boy, you are unique, and of course you can be whatever you want.”

 

He wouldn’t connect the cause of this event for quite some time, but the truth of the matter was was that while Wade was a Squib, Unique was the witch.

 

\---------

 

Thus it happened that despite his wild dreams and deep-seated desire to be like Glinda the Good Witch, Wade Adams, a shy 10-year-old boy, found that finds that while he could memorize the methods of charms and understand the theory of hexes, only the thinnest wisps of magic emerged from his yew and unicorn hair wand no matter how hard he concentrated. Thus due to his academic disappointments, Wade did his best to live up to what the prissy witches of Beauxbatons Academy expected of young gentleman wizards in other areas. It felt like he was disappointing his mother’s conviction he could be whoever he wished to be, but surely it would disappoint her more if he were kicked out as a Squib.

 

(It is in fact only when he found himself daydreaming _of fairies and angels and princesses in puffy pink skirts_ that the wand would emit these puffs of magic. It surprised him every time and he would push back the daydreams with guilt. He was not a fabulous princess or otherworldly angel, after al, but an unfocused, untalented boy who should be concentrating on schoolwork.)

 

So it goes that Wade Adams followed what Headmistress Sylvester expected of him and wore the uniform wizards robes and bunked in the boys dorm. Fortunately the dorms were spacious and each student's bed was separated for privacy with canopy curtains made of opaque gauze, white flecked with gold. The beds were likely charmed with Silencing Spells since Wade almost couldn't hear his classmates' snoring-- gentle at first, then louder and deeper over the years as each hit puberty-- or the shrieks of boyish delight when they would hide worms in each others' beds as silly pranks. He could instead relax in bed imagining herself as the _Good Witch Unique. In these flights of fancy, she was an angel among angels, with soft ethereal features and a high-pitched melodious voice. She was no longer surrounded by messy, squirmy boys nothing like her glorious self as she drifted off to sleep floating away in a bubble, wafting up to a cloud in the company of divinity-- sparkling and glowing and radiating magical power._ His dormmates complained amongst themselves that Wade's bed often pulsed and glowed, keeping them awake at nights. Wade, bewildered, denied any late night magic, while the boys, aware of his poor classroom performance, figured maybe they just imagined it after all.

 

(what are little girls made of? sugar and spice and everything nice, that's what little girls are made of.)

(but don't forget, [every angel is terrifying.](http://allspirit.co.uk/rilkefirst.html))

 

As for Wade’s social life, in waking hours the boys themselves didn't mind his company, but Wade found, just like at Muggle primary school, that he clicked better with the girls. The boys occasionally ribbed him about how he snubbed their rough-housing in place of chatting with the girls, but for the most part they left him alone and he left them alone. Beauxbatons was an academy instilling virtues of politeness, refinement, and love of learning; low-brow fighting and bullying were not the actions of a Beauxbatons gentleman. He slept in their dorm and wore their uniform, but they went their separate ways out of doors.

 

(what are little boys made of? slugs and snails and puppy dog tails, that's what little boys are made of.)

 

While Wade loved the silky blue material of the school uniform robes for young wizards, he outright envied the freedom of movement that the witches' skirts allowed. When one day the boys caught him gazing at the flowing, fluttering skirt of a friend as she walked away, they raised their eyebrows in surprise, elbowed each other in the ribs, and whispered semi-discreetly before thankfully walking away.

Wade had been idly wondering whether he could tailor his own wizards robes in such a way as to highlight his hips (he had been practicing emphasizing their swish while walking) without breaking academy dress code, but he very much doubted that the mocking boys were as interested in how the sections of fabric fit together as he was.

 

It was not until the annual Yule Ball during his fourth year when he arrived-- feeling uncomfortable and twitchy in his gleaming white tuxedo robes-- with a date on his arm that the boys confronted him. The entire Main Hall was frosted, shining with diamond twisting icicles and hovering gleaming ice sculptures-- a veritable Winter Wonderland-- but to the boys of the school the most beautiful thing in the room was Gabby Delacour wearing a dress that looked to be made of ocean foam and-- Merlin's beard!-- on the arm of Wade Adams, rumoured fairy!

 

(Unlike his block at charms for class, Wade had never had a problem with the tailoring spells from his mother’s pattern books for women’s clothes. Gabby had come to him wanting a fabulous dress that would catch the eye of the aloof seventh year Druella-- Gabby's half-Veela charms unfortunately repulsed women to the same extent it charmed men. He agreed in exchange for the chance to show her off with the dress at the Ball himself and had set to work for weeks on a beautiful gauzy white dress before realizing his wand-- with a mind of its own-- had tailored the white ball gown to his exact dimensions instead of hers. Upon discovering this, Wade shoved it into the bottom of his truck in horror at how his daydreams were yet again out of his control and hastily started anew, this time concentrating carefully on Gabby’s measurements.)

 

Once they collected themselves from staring in lost awe at Gabby in her finery, the boys were astonished that only Wade among them managed to find a date and the prettiest, most desirable girl at the school at that! How could he have succeeded not only in wooing the famously icy Gabby, but have all the rest of the girls so eager to dance with him? Noticing the legion of lovestruck, jealous boys heading towards them, Gabby quickly escaped into a nearby crowd of girls, leaving Wade to deal with the males’ bewilderment.

 

In any case, the boys were no longer jovially indifferent to his idiosyncrasies, and they now crowded around him, gesturing excitedly and talking over one another in rapid-fire French. While he had been generally ignored by them as an eccentric and social pariah for the previous several years, he was now back on the radar as some sort of secret Don Juan. They realized he had something they wanted-- the secret to winning girls’ attentions:

 

“They don’t think our jokes are funny, how do you get them to like you?”

“Well, Anton, it would probably help if you didn’t belch in their faces.”

“How many of those girls have been your girlfriends?”

“You were the one who dared me to, Henri!”

“What do Gabby’s lips taste like?”

“Is it true she’s half-Veela?”

“How many of them have you snogged?”

“Don’t be gauche, you can’t ask him that.”

“Was it a love potion?”

“Louis, a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell!”

“A gentleman also doesn’t bewitch girls, Madame Sylvester would expel you.”

“Well a gentleman does assist his desperate brothers. And don’t forget, _fraternité_ is an important tenant of Beauxbatons ethics!”

“How can I get one to dance with me?”

“Me too, Wade! Surely you can spare a few chicks from your harem for us, your pals?”

“ _Fraternité_!”

“Please?”

 

They crowded in closer, and several patted his shoulder like old chums, faces open and expectant, waiting for answers. Wade, momentarily stupefied by the abrupt interrogation and struggling to process their rapid, slang-filled French, made the mistake of pulling in a deep breath to calm his nerves at the sudden flurry of attention in his direction. His senses flooding with the intoxicating scent of boy-- not the everyday odor of socks and feet from their dorm, but the fresh clean scent of soap and tasteful cologne and something namelessly masculine-- he closed his eyes to better bask in it. _She transported herself to her cloud, and now she is wearing a long flowing white dress, while choirs of angelic-faced boys admire her sweet voice, twirling her around in dance-- they are flying, floating and one leans in towards her face, until she can smell his minty breath--_

 

“I mean we always thought you were a _pédé_ , but if you’re not, then you owe it to your brothers--”

 

That French word she knew too well. At that, Unique crashed back to earth as Wade with unconsciously puckered lips and the sudden swirl of glitter surrounding him falling abruptly to the ground. The words pouring from their minty mouths a moment ago now all sunk in at once, corrupting the moment and turning the attention ugly.

 

“They are my sisters, and I owe you nothing. I am not part of your _fraternité_.” He spat out dismissively.

 

He then turned to stalk away in anger-- a gentleman doesn’t lose his temper, a lady is demure and discreet-- but stopped when he caught a glimpse of himself as Wade in a reflection on a shimmering ice swan bewitched to float above their heads. He was still dressed smartly in his white silk tux, looking not only dapper and fashionably masculine but lost. The ice swan then tilted, catching the light at a new angle, and in the reflection the white tux melted into a flowing white dress while Wade’s lumpy body warped into Unique’s luscious curves. Unique looked down at herself in surprise to see that the dress Wade had locked away in his trunk was now draped lovingly across her body, accentuating it in all the right places.

 

Not noticing his transformation right away, a few of the boys rolled their eyes in disappointment at his righteous fury. “So you are a _pédé_! I told you Henri, we shouldn’t have bothered with the fairy--”

 

“Unique is not a fairy, Unique is an angel... and I’m not gay.” It slipped out of her mouth like water, her hands unable to grasp and contain the confession. _I would have to be one of you to be gay._

 

They stared at her for a moment, perplexed at the transformation, then shrugged their shoulders muttering “fairy” and decided to maybe ask Anton’s brother to help them transfigure the punch into champagne. Gossip was that Gabby’s sister had married a werewolf, so maybe bad boys impressed half-Veela girls? Meanwhile...

 

_I am not one of them._

 

Unique, abandoned with her thoughts, now knows that she was never one of them. This is obvious enough, but the reality is that she was also never Wade at all. She was Unique this whole time, not just in her dreams or on her canopied cloud, but hidden every day of her life. She had survived as Wade until this point, but now that she knew the angel of her dreams was herself in reality, and that everyone around her with all their magical talent at the Academy-- a prestigious wizarding institution!-- could not see her power was unacceptable.

 

Screw Beauxbatons and its repressed uniformity. Screw Beauxbatons and its rigid rules and gendered expectations. Screw Wade and playing it safe and hiding from disappointment and spells that didn’t work and the white tux and having to dream her way out of the boys’ dorm room.

 

Unique knew now who she was, and she needed to escape before this place crushed the truth out of her.

 

\---------------

 

A month later, Unique sat primly on her chair, warily paying attention to the petite red-headed woman across the desk. With Professor McGonagall as Headmistress, Professor Pillsbury was the newly appointed Head of Gryffindor and an unknown quantity according to SPLOG's advisory.

 

After her epiphany at the Yule Ball and Headmistress Sylvester’s refusal to house her with the girls at Beauxbatons, Unique had contacted the Society for the Protection of Liberties for Oppressed Groups in the Wizarding World (commonly known as SPLOG), one of the unfortunately named organizations started by famous civil rights crusader Hermione Granger. With some experimenting, Unique had discovered how misgendering herself was connected to her magical difficulties, so sought out options with SPLOG to rectify this and unleash her potential.

The receptionist that answered the phone had ranted about how even Muggle laws haven’t caught up to addressing the plights of teens like Unique even without the magical element and that wizards in past decades would take dangerous experimental potions to transfigure themselves, and these days there were better options for adults but nothing approved yet for schoolchildren even though surpressing her feminine magic was dangerous for her health-- magic-supression had resulted in Ariana Dumbledore's deteriorating mental health after all!-- and anyway Beauxbatons as a private institution could make their own rules--

 

(Unique started to zone out in misery at this point until--)

 

but had Unique heard of Hogwarts’ scholarship program? Apparently a SPLOG club (called Galleons for Gays by misinformed bigots) raised money for scholarships for students seeking refuge from bullying so that they could reach their magical potential. It was started by a few transfer students who escaped a near-violent altercation at Durmstrang.

 

Anyway, the end result was that now Unique was clutching the paperwork for her Albus Percival Brian Dumbledore Memorial Scholarship and hoping it would offer her some protection in the face of the small white woman who could easily stick her in the boys’ dorm room with wizard robes and seal her fate as Wade the shy Squib.

 

“Welcome to Gryffindor! We’re so happy to have you in our house.” Professor Pillsbury's warm smile twisted into a sheepish apology as she levitated a pile of black robes and assorted red and gold accessories into Unique’s truck. “Sorry about the hand-me-downs, we don’t usually get transfer students on such short notice, so I hope these will suffice until you can shop over the summer. I know Hogwarts robes aren’t as nice a material as the Beauxbatons silk-- they’re a bit scratchy and quite hard to clean no matter how many Scourgify spells you use--but you are welcome to tailor them to fit. I had to guess on your size--”

 

Unique drew in a breath for strength, she was not quite used to standing up for herself just yet, so here went nothing. Truth time. She wrung her hands while waiting for Prof. Pillsbury to finish, then sputtered out: “Are these wizard’s robes...? Or witches?”

 

“Uniform robes are the same for both witches and wizards. However you may wear Muggle clothes in whatever style you prefer between classes. We have some very creative students in Gryffindor, so you're in good company.” Pillsbury said fondly with a twinkle in her eye and a small, sweet smile stretched across her face. She clasped her hands together and stood up. “Well then, now I’ll lead you up to the Gryffindor common room and get you settled in.”

 

They walked out through the halls, through the Fat Lady’s portrait, and into a mostly empty cozy room where a few students huddled around the fire quietly relaxing before Christmas vacation ended.

 

“One of the prefects will let you know if the password changes--oh! there’s Kurt in the corner, the one stitching? He’s a prefect and one of founders of the club that helped get you that scholarship-- and you may gather at any time down here in the common area, but we recommend students head to their bunks by 10pm each night. Curfew is at 11pm.” Professor Pillsbury hesitated a bit embarrassed before gesturing to two doorways. “Boys bunk up those stairs and girls up that way, so you may as well tuck in for the night about now. I'm sure you're tired from your journey over here.”

 

Unique stared at her, and when Pillsbury didn’t continue, she asked, “Well, which one am I in?”

 

Eavesdropping at the sound of his name earlier, Kurt then piped up helpfully, with a bit of dry bitterness, “Oh the stairs to the girls’ dorm turns into a slide to kick out any boys who try to enter. Even honorary girls, like us. Trust me, I’ve tried everything. The boys room constantly smells like feet, no matter what spells I've tried.”

 

At either the misgendering or the mention of boys' feet-- Unique wasn't sure which--Pillsbury cringed, then started to explain, “The Founders thought that--”

 

But Unique didn’t hear her over the pounding of blood in her ears and the now familiar cloud of sparkles she would conjure out of nowhere when projecting her feminitity. Unique did not come this far to be shut down. This wasn’t only a matter of academic success and avoiding parental disappointment, but of survival and the right to _being_. Wade no longer existed, and Unique had no intention of subduing herself any longer.

She drew herself up to her full height, shook her shaved head back as if flicking long curls out of her face, opened the door, and pounded up the stairs, her hips swishing majestically.

 

Unique did not slow down until just before carefully placing both feet on the top step. Now at the top, turning around, Unique glanced down the still-present stairway victorious to see Prof. Pillsbury beaming up at her, while Kurt peered up impressed but perplexed with a quirked eyebrow. Unique then looked around at the small room, more cramped than at Beauxbatons and with dreary green curtains and that musty smell attics tend have, then locked eyes with a kind-faced blue-eyed girl who immediately smiled and gestured to the empty bed next to hers without hesitation. Unique relaxed and realizing she had been crumpling the scholarship papers tightly in her hand since Pr. Pillsbury’s office, set them down on the nightstand and smooth the papers out in apology. As she looked down at them, words suddenly appeared in a loopy gold script as if an invisible hand was writing it right before her eyes:

 

“ _Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it._ ”

 

For the first time in her relatively short but confusing life, Unique Adams, a courageous young woman, felt like she had found a home in the wizarding world.

**Author's Note:**

> I am American, white, cisfemale, and a Muggle... so if anything screams inauthenticity, let me know so I can learn! (I'm on Tumblr under the same username.)
> 
> Please leave a comment letting me know what you think or with any questions! Anons are welcome.


End file.
